


We Took the Wrong Step Years Ago

by alphvjensen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Impala Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:36:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphvjensen/pseuds/alphvjensen
Summary: It’s the Fourth of July and it’s the only holiday that matters to Dean. He’ll pack up the impala, make sure that his brother is beside him and drive to that field that no one but him and Sam knows about.





	We Took the Wrong Step Years Ago

It wasn’t unusual for Dean to tell Sam to pack a bag for a couple of nights, that they were going to hit the road, see what the world had to offer. Usually it would be after days of being cooped up in the Bunker, with no cases to chase and it felt like Dean was crawling out of his skin. A side effect of growing up on the road, always in constant movement.

It also wasn’t unusual for when the fourth of July would roll around, that they would pile into the Impala and drive to some state somewhere and watch whatever firework show that the taxpayers paid for.

Sam never really knew where his brother would end up going. When he would ask, Dean would just look across the cab with that smile on his face and he wouldn’t say. He would just turn back to the road, turn up the music and press his foot against the gas just a little harder so that they were zipping along the darkened highway.

They had been on the road for hours and the sound of the wheels rolling over the asphalt and the soft, classic rock knocked him right out. Dean glanced across the cab, watching Sam with a fond little smile. He looked so young like this. Relaxed and sleeping with his head resting up against the glass. Dean made sure to avoid any potholes in the road.

It was close to ten by the time that the Impala rolled to a stop and Sam grunted as he woke up.

“Ah, sleeping beauty lives.” Dean joked, looking at Sam as he wiped a hand across his mouth and ran his fingers through his hair. He laughed at the bitch face that Sam shot his way.

“Shut up.” Sam groaned as he sat up fully, looking outside the window. They were parked in a field, nothing to be seen for miles. He turned back to face Dean who was still smiling. “Where are we?”

“Don’t you recognize this place?”

Sam looked back out the window, at the grass that was waving slightly in the breeze. Off in the distance, there were trees that lined the field. The moon reflected into the cab of the Impala. He didn’t recognize the place, not really but Dean was still smiling, still looking at him with that look in his eye. Sam looked out at the field again, taking in the trees that looked untouched. He looked at them harder, seeing that around the base of the trees were slightly darker than the upper parts of them and he thought that it was the shadows casting shapes on the trees.

But they all looked too uninformed, the dark markings. The harder he looked, the more that he noticed that they weren’t shadows at all. In fact, they looked like char marks like… like from a fire that was set… about twenty years ago.

He turned back to Dean, his eyes wide with realization and Dean’s small smile broke out into a full fledged one. One that seemed to de-age him years, strip him of everything that they had gone through and put him back in that body that he was in when Dean first took him here.

“You’re kidding.” Sam whispered, speaking so low like he was scared that if he spoke any higher then this place would just disappear. “How do you even remember this place?”

Dean scoffed at that. “Like I could  _ ever _ forget this place.” 

Like he could forget the way that the light rain stuck to Sam, to his hair, his eyelashes. The way that Sam looked so completely happy, so carefree with his hands in the air as the blue and red and white sparks fell down around him. For as long as he would live, he wouldn’t forget the way that Sam had wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and kissed him with every ounce of fear and uncertainty that he was feeling. 

And he wouldn’t forget the way that the dead grass had caught on fire, setting the field aflame and the way that they ran back to the Impala, stomach aching with laughter as Dean drove away as fast as he could.

“I didn’t even think that this place still existed. Thought that we burned it down.” Sam said, getting out of the car and closing the door behind him.

“Well, we did burn it down. And remember how angry Dad got when he found out that it was us that burnt it down?” Dean asked, settling down on the hood of the Impala. Sam sat down next to him, chuckling as he remembered.

“Yeah, Dad took the car from you for a month and you threw a complete bitch fit.”

“I did not!” Dean rebutted, trying to define that sense of masculinity that Sam was desperately trying to poke holes through.

“You totally did! You were moping around the motel for weeks like a girl.”

“Was not.” Dean jabbed his elbow into Sam’s ribs. “I just… missed the car.”

Sam rolled his eyes, shifting closer to Dean on the hood. “Whatever.”

Dean didn’t bring any fireworks, not like he had done years ago, despite the fact that they passed about a million red and white tents on the way here but Sam seemed perfectly content sitting on the hood and looking up towards the sky, watching the stars.

“This is probably my favorite place in the world.” Dean whispered right into Sam’s ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise of Sam’s skin. “Actually… my favorite place in the world is inside you. But this… this place is a close second.”

Sam’s breathing hitched.

“You kissed me that night, remember? You did the one thing that I could never do, no matter how much I wanted it.” Dean slid up closer to Sam, pressing his body flush up against his brothers, nipping at his earlobe. “I was so scared that you didn’t want me in the same way so I never did tell you. But now… now I’m not scared at taking what I want.”

Sam turned his head and Dean captured his lips with his own.

“Are we going to do this here?” Sam asked through the kiss and he could practically feel Dean smirking against him.

“Don’t cha know it, baby brother.”

Sam whined at that, pushing Dean down against the windshield as he rolled on top of Dean, straddling his waist with his knees. His lips were feverish as they moved against Dean’s desperate to kiss and lick into Dean’s mouth. His fingers found their way underneath his shirt, moving up the muscle, tracing every scar that lined his stomach.

It was hot outside, the humidity thick in the air and Sam was only wearing a thin t-shirt that Dean was almost positive was once his. He pulled at the hem of Sam’s shirt, pulling it up and over Sam’s head, tossing it to the ground to the side of them. Already Sam was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and Dean kissed down Sam’s neck. Down along his jaw only to settle in the hollow of his throat to lick at the sweat that collected there. Sam there his head back, giving Dean all the access that he could want.

“I remember the first time I fucked you, Sammy.” Dean muttered against Sam’s flesh, his hands moving down Sam’s body to the back of his jeans. “It was summer, the summer before you left for Stanford and you were desperate for it.”

“It’s only because you made me wait so long.” Sam rebutted, his voice nothing more than a weak moan.

“Yeah, well I didn't want to do something that you might regret later.” Dean replied back truthfully, pulling away from Sam to look at him. Really look at him. 

In the moonlight he looked so much like he did when he first did this. And it was also in a field much like this one. Dad had taken them out in the middle of nowhere for some hunt and they stayed in some one room cabin and this was the time when Dad and Sam couldn't say more than two words to each other without it being some sort of fight. Sam ran out when it got too much and the night swallowed him up. Dean followed because that's what he did. Ever since Sam was a child, Dean followed. That's just how it was. 

They weren't really sure what to call what they were. Relationship felt something too small to describe what they were. Lovers felt cliche. Brothers who were closer than brothers felt all kinds of wrong. But whatever they were had been going on for years now. However, in that time, Dean never fucked Sam. Wouldn't allow himself to before the kid turned eighteen. That was his one rule and every chance Sam got, he tried to break that rule. He would dangle himself in front of Dean, hoping that he would just snap. Dean never did until that one night where Sam ran out, slamming the door behind him and Dad locked himself in his room with a bottle of Jack in his hand.

Dean followed Sam out into the night and found Sam sitting in the middle of the field, eyes wet with tears staring up at the moon wishing that he could just get away.

Dean sat down next to him and for a long time Sam refused to acknowledge that Dean was even there. He looked off in the opposite of Dean, not saying anything when Dean would ask a question and Dean was perfectly content just sitting next to Sam in the dark watching the stars. 

Until Sam had to turn to him, tears still in his eyes and asked the one question that he never thought he would hear Sam utter. If he hated him like Dad hated him. Dean wanted to tell him that Dad didn't hate him, Dad could never hate him but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. Instead, Dean grabbed Sam’s face and pulled him in for a kiss, hoping that Sam would understand everything that Dean needed him to understand. Then, that night under the stars, with barely any prompting from Sam, Dean fucked him. Slow and sweet and with every ounce of emotion that he could convey through his movements. 

“When it comes to you, Dean, I regret nothing.” Sam said, cupping Dean’s cheek and running his thumb along his cheekbone. Dean leaned into the touch despite himself.

“You fucking sap.” Dean muttered, blushing a little under the moonlight and he tried to distract himself by removing his shirt. 

“Says the person who literally brought us back to the spot where we had our first kiss.”

“It wasn't because of that!” Dean exclaimed. “It's because you have a great view of the fireworks here and that's what I wanted to see.”

“Dean…” Sam said in this voice that was full of both admiration and annoyance. “The only fireworks we'll be seeing is if we shoot them off ourselves.”

Instead of answering to that obvious fact, Dean buried his hands back in Sam’s hair and pulled him back down for a kiss. Without falling off the car (which was a lot harder than either brother wanted to admit) they both stripped out of the rest of their clothes. Dean was still on his back, his skin sliding against the cooling metal of the car while Sam was still on top of him, straddling his waist.

“You got any lube?” Dean mumbled into Sam’s mouth. He had planned out all of this, the field, the laying out on the car, hopefully getting laid and he forgot the one thing that Sam would need.

Sam smirked, pulling away just far enough that not only could Dean feel it against his own lips, but see it. “Yeah.” He said, sliding off Dean and down the car to where his jeans were discarded on the ground and threw it up to where Dean was watching him. Dean caught it easily out of the air.

“Fucking boy scout.” Dean teased with no volition in his voice.

There wasn’t much talking after that. The sound of the bottle popping open echoed around them and Dean poured it over his fingers. The first touch of Dean’s fingers to Sam’s hole made Sam gasp, leaning forward further into Dean, kissing him with wet, dirty, open mouth kisses.

With experienced fingers, he stretched Sam open, making sure that his brother wouldn’t feel an ounce of pain because that’s not what this was about. There were times when Sam liked it to hurt. Times when they were both amped up after a hunt and desperate for each other and skin on skin and Sam just needed Dean inside of him and the pain would only make everything feel better. But this, this wasn’t about that. This was about Dean making sure that Sam knew how much he needed him without saying the words.

“Come on, Dean.” Sam groaned, pulling away, pressing his hands flat on Dean’s chest. “I need you inside of me already.”

“Just trying to make sure that you’re ready.” But regardless he grabbed the bottle and poured some more lube over his fingers to slick up his cock, needing to be inside of Sam as much as Sam needed him.

“I’m always ready for you.”

Dean bit his tongue to keep from calling Sam a sap again but he didn’t miss the way that his heart did a stutter step at the declaration. Sam always seemed to make his heart do that. Make it feel like it was going to beat out of his chest while simultaneously stopping.

Even though Dean’s been inside of Sam more times than he could count, it always felt like the first time. It always felt like all the oxygen in his lungs had been punched out of him, Sam always impossibly tight. Sam sank down on top of Dean, taking his time, taking every inch that Dean had to offer, going so slow so that he could feel it all.

Finally when Dean bottomed out and Sam was so stuffed full of his brother, their mouths met desperate to taste each other.

Dean let Sam control the pace, how fast he wanted to go. He placed his hands on Sam’s hips, his fingers digging into those bony hips that he’s never grown out of and Sam still had his hands on Dean’s chest, rising and falling, every inch of Dean filling every inch of Sam.

They didn’t speak. There wasn’t any need for words. They spoke through touches and wet kisses and looks that said everything that didn’t need to be said.

Sweat was running down Sam’s chest, making perfect little trails that Dean wanted to follow with his tongue. Sam had his hands in Dean’s hair, pushing through it and spiking it up with the sweat that was breaking out along his hairline.

Somewhere in the background, they could hear the distant sound of firecrackers going off if they cared to listen for such a thing.

Sam came first. Dean wrapped his hand around Sam’s hard cock, running his fingers up and down the shaft, going on this side of slow that it could be considered teasing and Sam came over his fingers, Dean’s name in his mouth. Dean pulled everything out of Sam’s body, every ounce of pleasure that he could get before he took what he needed himself, not that it took a lot.

He kissed Sam as he came inside of his baby brother, painting the inside of him white.

Sam didn’t move. He didn’t want to move off his brother. He was perfectly content in seeing the stars reflected in Dean’s eyes as he stared down at him and for a while, they didn’t move. Dean ran his fingers up and down Sam’s body, tracing the scars and lines of muscle that only came with the life of hunting and Sam buried his head in the crook of Dean’s shoulder, a place that he would happily die.

After a while, Dean shifted on the Impala, the metal hood no longer as comfortable as it once was and the added weight of his baby brother was only pushing him down into it harder and Sam rolled off him onto the ground.

It was a silent dance between the two of them. Sam grabbed a rag from the back of the car and cleaned himself up before he passed it to his brother.

Then Dean grabbed an old quilt that Bobby had given to them when they were children and they crawled into the backseat with each other. It was a tight fit for the two of them, almost impossible but neither one of them complained. 

Sam rested nearly on top of Dean, his head laying right over Dean’s heart and he could hear the steady  _ thump thump _ of it and Dean had his hands in Sam’s hair, brushing out the knots.

They fell asleep like that, in that field that had been burned down but grew up as strong and wild as the boys who burnt it in the first place.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts, comments and opinions are always welcomed. Thanks for reading!!


End file.
